


take your time, think a lot

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [24]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Daddy Issues, Domestic Disputes, Dysfunctional Family, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Things are more or less back to normal now that Freddie's got the sugarplum seed taking over from his lost Bvlgari Blue, and Ephram's been healed up better than new. Except that Ephram's father Harlan's in town, and drops in on them unannounced.Harlan Pettaline = Timothy Olyphant FC
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	take your time, think a lot

**Author's Note:**

> > Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)   
> 

Ephram was back to work full-time again, and although he and Freddie had thoroughly enjoyed being able to spend time with each other after Ephram had nearly died … it was also good to be fulfilling his responsibility to the town. And of course, Freddie did seem to approve of the Sheriff’s uniform and naughty lunch dates, so it wasn’t a bad thing, all told. It felt like their lives were returning to normal, like a lingering murkiness had been scoured out of Ephram’s soul and body and left him more confident about the future. Their future together.  
  
Which, unfortunately, also meant that there were changes in his life and outlook that Ephram wanted to make. Ones that he knew people might not agree with, his precious Freddie in particular. It was regarding Freddie that Ephram’s decision had been the hardest, honestly, and as he sat at the kitchen island gazing at his handsome fairy making brunch – some dish Ephram had never heard of, which had become a habit between them since Freddie was a brilliant cook and Ephram wanted to try anything and everything – he wondered again whether this was the right thing.  
  
He’d been wondering for weeks. It was time, Ephram resolved, to bring it out in the open.

“Dumplin',” Ephram said, holding his coffee mug in both hands with his elbows propped on the island, “you ever hear how folks who had a near-death experience sometimes come out the other side with a new outlook on life? How they change their minds on something that they seemed so sure on before?” He pressed the tip of his nose against the rim of the mug. “You reckon that’s some sorter psychological coping strategy, or is it, like, to be expected after that kinda experience?”  
  
Freddie, who was in the process of adding halved cherry tomatoes and harissa to the pan where he was frying merguez sausages and red onion, turned to look back over his shoulder when he heard Ephram’s question, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve heard of that happening, darling, yeah,” he said, tossing in a pinch of sugar, giving everything a quick stir, and turning down the heat in order to be able to give Ephram his undivided attention for a few minutes.  
  
Pulling the teatowel he had slung over his shoulder down to wipe his hands, Freddie tossed it back onto the counter and crossed over to the island to stand in front of his husband, a nervous flutter in his stomach as he processed just what exactly his witch might have been changing his mind about; unable to stop himself - though he knew it was both unfair and unlikely - from wondering if that something could be _him_.  
  
“I think it depends, sweetheart,” he went on, meeting Ephram’s blue eyes with his own, “Whether it’s a natural reaction to such a traumatic experience, or a coping strategy to help someone process thoughts of their own mortality, or a genuinely necessary life-change, I think depends very much on the person in question, and their circumstances. That kind of thinking could be any one of those things, or all of them, or absolutely none of the above…”  
  
Freddie looked at Ephram questioningly and reached out to run his fingers through the shaggy blond hair at his witch’s temple. “Why, love? What is it that you think you want to change?”  
  
Turning his head instinctively into Freddie’s touch, Ephram gazed at his husband steadfastly, guileless as a child puzzling through a philosophical question put to them for the first time. “I reckon it’s all three, then,” he finally nodded with relief, glad that Freddie had been able to better articulate the thoughts that Ephram had been chasing around. The distractedness meant that Ephram didn’t pick up on any trepidation, even the slight one, on Freddie’s part, or he would have hastened to assure his precious fairy otherwise; as it was he contented himself with pushing his head against Freddie’s fingers, inhaling the sent of the spices with each motion.  
  
“I feel like,” Ephram said, “I feel like it’s a change I need to make, now that I come so close to the end. ‘Specially since the end for me, we know, is….” He could feel himself start to shake slightly and left the sentence where it was. The fear, though, didn’t seem like it was going away anytime soon; once he’d realized what Anaxis was, when he was little, he’d been terrified of the damnation that surely awaited him at the end of his life. But he didn’t want to get into all that now.  
  
Ephram gave Freddie a quick smile and went on, his speech taking a turn for the backcountry formal, “Well, there ain’t much point, is what I feel, when it comes to extending any further the ill will I’ve built up against certain people who’ve shown themselves harmful in the past. To me, and – to you too, honey.” His voice softened, wheedling, entreating. “It don’t sit right with me to keep that sort of malediction in me, poisoning my soul. Further than what it is already.” Clasping Freddie’s hand tightly, Ephram said, “I’m not gonna hang on to my gripes against Faye and Bellamy and … and Elizabeth.”  
  
His fingers unconsciously squeezed harder, as if Freddie’s hand was slipping away.  
  
Freddie stood, listening, with concern in his eyes, as Ephram spoke about the end; heard the tremor in his husband’s voice, and hated that there was nothing he could do or say something to reach the depth of that fear and ease it somehow. But some monsters were entirely too real to be vanquished simply by turning on the light; so he stayed quiet, his stomach continuing to churn at the notion of change, even as Ephram leaned into his touch.  
  
As Ephram went on though, his drawl slowing and thickening as he spoke, Freddie began to frown, not liking the turn that this was taking.  
  
And by the time Ephram had said his piece, holding firm to Freddie’s hand, the fairy’s jaw was tight. “So that’s all they are then?” he said quietly, “ _Gripes_? Faye and Bellamy hurt you like that, over and over again - _brutally_ , Ephram; the Spanish Inquisition was kinder to its victims than those women have been to you - and it’s just that easy?”  
  
“You make it sound as though none of it mattered…” Freddie murmured, gaping at Ephram incredulously. “How can you think it doesn’t matter?”  
  
“And as far as Elizabeth goes-” The fairy sighed and dropped his eyes, looking down at the way Ephram was holding his hand, cutting himself off and feeling utterly ridiculous.  
  
He’d thought it was the sweetest, most romantic thing in the world when Ephram had been so angry on his behalf over how things had turned out with Lizzie. To be prioritized that way, to be important enough that his hurt and mistreatment could elicit that sort of a response, had almost made the pain worth it…  
  
Freddie took a deep breath. Well. He supposed he should have known that the bubble would burst eventually.  
  
At the moment though, all that was neither here nor there.  
  
Still staring down at their hands, his own just sitting there lifeless as Ephram clutched it tightly, Freddie took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his husband’s again, abandoning the subject of Elizabeth altogether.  
  
“So what does that mean then?” he asked, an edge to his voice. “They’re all coming round for dinner now, because all’s forgiven? Am I expected to cook?”  
  
He knew he’d hurt Freddie, it was plain to see and even plainer in his tone and his words. And Ephram was deeply sorry for it, but at the same time, he felt a little put out himself. Wasn’t he allowed to make changes in his own philosophies and behaviour without them being vetoed by his partners? For the first time in their relationship, Ephram started to get a twinge for his independent and alone days, when no man could dictate what he chose to do.  
  
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it means, Freddie,” Ephram said just as sharply, still holding Freddie’s hand though. “We’s all gonna become housemates, in fact, they gonna all heave up and come live here with us, and you’re gonna be looking after em all and I expect you to be happy about it.” He snorted bullishly, straightening up and taking his hands back. “Don’t be a fuckin’ drama queen about it. This don’t even have anything really to do with you, so honey, please – just try to accept that I gotta do this to be at peace with myself, and trust me. You trust me, right?"  
  
It was manipulative to put it that way, maybe, but Ephram figured it was a minor infraction in view of the big picture. “Just because I ain’t gonna be openly angry don’t mean I’ve forgiven em,” he said. “It means I ain’t gonna _not_ interact with em. I can’t …” Ephram paused, sighing; the exasperation wasn’t yet gone from his voice, but it was a little tamped down, “I’m the Sheriff of this here town, baby. I can’t have it looking like I got these grudges all over, I can’t have it seeming like folks gotta be in my good graces to get help. I need to make it clear that everybody, every single townsperson, will get my assistance if they need it.”  
  
That was only part of it, of course, but it was a pretty goddamn big part. “Just because I’m gonna change my attitude towards Elizabeth,” Ephram said, tipping his head as he looked at his husband – Jesus, he wanted to sweep Freddie into his arms and just kiss on him till they’d resolved this – “it don’t mean I forgive her for what she done to you. I never will, Freddie.”  
  
When Ephram snapped back at him, Freddie squared his shoulders, prepared to fight his corner-  
  
…but when his husband pulled away from him, dropping his hand and using Freddie’s trust in him as leverage, the fairy felt it like a slap; and almost immediately, he laid down his sword and shield. He took a breath, and did his best to will his anger away again.  
  
Because it wasn’t worth it.  
  
If Ephram had made up his mind - and clearly he had; measuring the need to forgive against what he saw as the weight of his soul - then there would be nothing Freddie could say, no argument he could make, to change it. He would simply have to come to terms with Ephram’s new world order; the only choice left to him being whether or not he wanted to fight about it first.  
  
And the truth was… he didn’t. There was nothing to be gained in a fight that he couldn’t win. Especially when it had already pushed them apart; at least physically.  
  
And Freddie wouldn’t risk any further, deeper, distance. No matter how little he understood Ephram’s reasons.  
  
But he wouldn’t let his witch get away with dismissing him, either. Not when he’d been told over and over again to let his sweetheart know how he felt, to believe that his feelings mattered.  
  
“You know that I trust you, Ephram,” the fairy said, his voice low, “-and you’re a bastard for implying otherwise.” He bit his lip and swallowed hard. “You’re an even bigger bastard for saying that this hasn’t anything to do with me.”  
  
“But fine,” he went on, sounding rough but contained. “You’re a grown man, and you know your own mind, and if this is what you need to do - if this is what you think is right - then it doesn’t matter what I have to say about it.”  
  
He met Ephram’s eyes again and held them steady. “Just remember that I’m a grown man too, love - and I don’t have to _like_ it.”  
  
Freddie wanted to close the distance between them again, to reach out to his husband for reassurance; but instead, lest he be accused of dramatics again - a dig which Freddie felt was extremely unfair in this case, given the strength of his feelings on the subject - he turned back to the cooktop, resetting the heat and giving his pan a stir; his shoulders tense as he tried to sort through his emotions and get them under control.  
  
“I’m guessing that Ruby already knows about all this, yeah?” he said quietly, not trusting himself to turn around without making things worse.  
  
Ephram sat at the island again and gave a one-shouldered shrug, forgetting that Freddie wasn’t looking at him. “I mentioned it to her, was less complicated than this,” he muttered. “Bellamy and Elizabeth and Faye was all her friends so she wasn’t about to protest, you know that. She said I should do what I needed to so I could get right with this.” He tapped his fingertips along the marble, and said, “And it ain’t that I expected you to react the same way, Freddie. Not after what you went through with Elizabeth and not with how protective you are over me when it comes to Faye and Bellamy.”  
  
Rubbing his hands over his face, Ephram propped his chin in one hand, shoving his lips out of shape and trapping his words between his teeth when he spoke. “I don’t expect you to like it,” he said, “and I thought and thought it out and looked at it a million ways, but truth is, Freddie – Freddie, I _am_ a bastard. You just ain’t seen it till now.” Ephram’s voice dipped into the melancholy drag of self-rebuke. “But I warned you, ain’t like you can say I didn’t warn you because I _did_.” He grimaced. “Now that we been together for a while you’re gonna start realizing just how deep that bastard streak in me runs.”  
  
He went quiet for a while, bare toes folding against each other on the rung of the stool, and then mumbled plaintively, “…I’m hungry, Freddie. Is it done? What is it?”  
  
Freddie had continued on with the cooking as Ephram spoke, needing something to do, something to focus on, other than his reactionary opposition to his witch’s decision, feeling worse with every word; and as a result, he now had four perfectly cooked eggs sizzling away with his merguez and sauce, and a small stack of pita breads toasted and waiting.  
  
Plating everything silently, he gave Ephram the lion’s share - his own appetite long since lost - sprinkling the eggs with sumac, adding yogurt and parsley and chopped pistachios, then set it all down in front of his husband, murmuring, “Yeah, it’s done.”  
  
“It’s a variation on something called shakshuka, love. If you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else.”  
  
But before Ephram could so much as reach for his fork, Freddie added, “Will you wait though? And just look at me for a minute?”  
  
He came around the island, needing to be closer. “For the record…” he said quietly, “-I don’t really think you’re a bastard, love. You can bloody behave like one when you try - but despite what I said, and despite what you believe, there’s a world of difference between the two.”  
  
“It just hurt,” he went on, “-to hear you say that your health and well-being are none of my concern.”  
  
“You are the absolute love of my life, Ephram, and I can’t help wanting to protect you. I can’t help worrying what another betrayal - what any _more_ cruelty - would do to you.”  
  
Frustration and pain leached through the softness of Freddie’s voice. “I don’t understand this…” Then, letting out another sigh, he added grudgingly, “…but I’ll respect it. I trust you, even if I’ll never trust any of them. Even if I don’t intend to forgive a fucking thing.”  
  
The fairy was quiet for a moment before stepping closer. “Now will you please touch me?” he asked, “Because it feels as though you’re a thousand miles away right now, and I hate it. I hate having you out of my reach.”  
  
“Shakshuka,” Ephram repeated to himself in the way he did when Freddie taught him a new word. It smelled amazing – his stomach grumbled loudly – but he obeyed Freddie and sat with his hands loosely in his lap, looking at his husband as he rounded the island. And when Freddie spoke, his hurt closer to the surface now than his anger, Ephram felt his own irritation sink back under the depths. It took his breath away, sometimes, the way that Freddie knew exactly the things that Ephram fundamentally craved and put them in words.  
  
“I’m sorry I upset you, Freddie,” he said contritely, reaching out immediately to pull Freddie close and kissing along his collarbone. “I’m used to looking out for myself, I reckon. Asking for help has never worked out all that well for me.” Ephram breathed deep against Freddie’s skin, chasing down that wonderful sophisticated scent of him under the lingering aromas of their breakfast. 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you too,” Freddie murmured as Ephram pulled him into his arms, tilting his head back to allow his witch better access to his neck and collarbone, and letting out a soft rumble of relief and pleasure as Ephram’s lips moved against his skin. Freddie hated to fight; and to fight with Ephram - especially over something like this - was painful in ways he didn’t care to repeat.  
  
Not if he could help it.

“I don’t trust em neither,” Ephram assured his fairy. “I ain’t looking to be some martyr here, and I’ll never forgive Elizabeth. I just need to move past it and get on with things.”  
  
“I know you’re not,” the fairy breathed, sliding his arms around Ephram’s neck and burying his face in the cornsilk softness of his husband’s hair, “-and I do understand wanting to move on, love…” He tightened his grip. “So if this is how you have to do it, then I’ll be behind you. I’m always behind you.”

Reaching out, Ephram snagged a bit of pita and dragged it through the rich sauce before tucking it into his mouth. “Jesus,” he said after a minute’s chewing, “Sweetheart, that’s fantastic! I want you to make this all the time now. Or just when we fight. Although I might pick more fights with you if that’s the case.” Swallowing, Ephram started to kiss Freddie only to be interrupted by the doorbell singing cheerily through the house.  
  
Still standing close, Freddie’s lips quirked into an affectionate smirk when Ephram reached out to try his breakfast; laughing at his enthusiasm for it, even as his own chest swelled a little with pride at the praise. “No, no, no…” he protested teasingly, his eyes smiling, “…that’s not how it works at all. If you pick a fight with me, darling, the kitchen is closed…”  
  
“…I am, however, very susceptible to flattery, should you get hungry any other time…” Ephram kissed him then, and Freddie sighed happily into it, pressing closer-  
  
-only to let out a frustrated grunt when the doorbell rang a moment later.

  
“Dammit,” Ephram groaned against Freddie’s mouth, his hands tightening on his husband’s body as if that would anchor him there. “Reckon I better go see who it is, might be somethin’ important.” He stood, kissing Freddie one more time and smiling warmly at him. “Don’t you move a wing, kitten.”  
  
Biting softly at Ephram’s mouth as his husband swore, the two of them standing still for another few seconds, reluctant to separate now that they’d come back together, Freddie pouted exaggeratedly - and then accepted one more kiss as Ephram took his leave, knowing he didn’t have any other choice. Ephram was the Sheriff, and barring a family emergency, if duty called, he would answer.  
  
He’d be hearing about it later if it was a bloody cat run up a tree though.  
  
“I’ll be waiting,” Freddie said with a smile of his own, smoothing his hands across Ephram’s chest. He winked, “So try your best to chase them off and hurry back, yeah?”

Ephram hoped desperately on his way to the front door that it wasn’t something work-related that he’d have to go out on, not when his husband had made such a sensuous breakfast and wanted to be loved and touched up – a privilege that Ephram took very seriously. He was already half-frowning by the time he opened the door, and once he got a good look at the long-legged tall man standing there, wearing a cocksure grin and his goddamn Stetson and goddamn boots, the frown turned full-blown.  
  
“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Ephram said loudly, almost shouting. “Jesus, Daddy what you doing here? Is something wrong with Momma or one’a the girls? Why the fuck didn’t you call?”  
  
“Shit, son.” Harlan Pettaline leaned in through the door, then shouldered past Ephram to come fully inside. “Could at least invite me in so I could get a strip torn off me in some sort’ve comfort.” He started heading to the kitchen immediately, drawn by the scent of buttery eggs, and pulled up short when he saw Freddie, pointing first at the fairy, then his son, then Freddie again. “You got yourself kitchen staff now, boy?” he asked, looking Freddie up and down incredulously. “Wait till your sister Darla hears about this.”  
  
Ephram was only gone for a moment - just barely long enough for Freddie to not quite consider tidying up the mess he’d made cooking - when the fairy heard his husband nearly shout something that sounded like it might have been ‘Daddy’ and ‘Momma and the girls’. But before he could go investigate further, a strange man walked into his kitchen, and Freddie stopped where he was in surprise.  
  
He blinked at the stranger for a second, before the penny fully dropped, then put on a pleasant smile. So this was Harlan Pettaline, he thought. Well.  
  
And Harlan, for his part, just looked between Freddie and Ephram - who’d come in behind him - for a moment, clearly confused, before proclaiming Freddie the kitchen staff. A statement that provoked the fairy to laugh lightly, shaking his head. “No, what he’s got himself is a husband, actually,” he said, “Which, I think, rather makes you my father-in-law.”  
  
Extending his hand, Freddie stepped forward personably to introduce himself. “I’m Freddie,” he explained, “Lovely to meet you.”  
  
Harlan leaned back, hands slung against his hips as he regarded Freddie up and down with this new information. “Well now,” he said, drawing it out. “My boy’s gone and got himself a slick one, has he?” Only then did Harlan shake Freddie’s proffered hand, grasping tightly and pumping it once. He kept holding Freddie’s hand, though, as he leaned in a bit and asked sotto voce, “What are you, then? You ain’t witchkind but you’re something, I can tell.”

“All sorts of slick when the mood strikes me, yeah,” Freddie agreed, a small smile playing on his lips as he returned Harlan’s handshake firmly; vaguely surprised, but not entirely taken aback, that his father-in-law had been able to suss out his not being human so easily. Harlan was a Pettaline, after all, even if he wasn’t a witch himself.

Harlan let go and tapped the side of his nose, saying, “I’ve got a sense for these things, Freddie. Nothing gets past me.”  
  
“Never mind that!” Ephram interrupted rudely, looking mortified. “Why are you here? You can’t just turn up on my doorstep like you got a right to be there, Daddy. Especially when I got a family of my own now.” He scooted closer to Freddie, putting a possessive arm around his husband and glaring at Harlan, daring the older man to make a comment. “I’m real sorry bout this, honey,” Ephram muttered, squeezing Freddie briefly.  
  
“So it would seem,” Freddie chuckled in concession to the older man’s sixth sense, “I’m a fairy, actually. Which is-” But Freddie cut himself off again when Ephram interrupted, his eyes widening slightly at the force of his husband’s objection and the discomfited look on his face, not quite sure what to make of it.  
  
Families were difficult things to navigate though, that much he knew intimately - and Ephram’s relationship with his father was particularly complex - so, discretion being the better part of valour, the fairy stayed quiet as Ephram said his piece regarding unannounced visitation, and the taking of undeserved liberties; settling against his witch’s side as a strong possessive arm settled around him. “It’s fine, love,” Freddie murmured as Ephram squeezed him, gently rubbing his husband’s back, “You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

Harlan, however, was clearly used to coasting through most situations on his good looks and charm - Freddie could have identified the man as a fellow grifter on sight, even if Ephram hadn’t already told him everything he needed to know - and, like any good conman, Pettaline-the-Elder shifted gears in a matter of seconds, playing a new angle in the hope of changing his fortunes. The only trouble, of course, was that Freddie was no mark, and Ephram was clearly having none of it.  
  
Father and son had obviously been here before, Freddie thought. Or if not here, exactly, then certainly not far off.  
  
(The fairy did wonder though how exactly it was that Harlan knew all about Ruby, and about Ephram’s position as Sheriff - not to mention their address - while apparently having had no idea about him, at the same time…)

“Come on, is that any way to act on seein’ your own flesh and blood? Besides, your Freddie had the right of it, I’m his proud papa-in-law.” Harlan beamed at Freddie with a conspiratorial wink, but since Ephram was starting to look more and more thunderous, he toned it down. “Awright, awright. Now that you’re a lawman you lost your sense of humour entirely.” The tone of his voice made it clear that Harlan thought his son didn’t have much of a sense of humour to begin with in the first place, but he didn’t bother saying it aloud. “Apart from hankering to see my son and daughter in law, I got some business in town. Naga lady who I conducted a transaction with is ready to pay up on what she owes me, nothin’ more serious than that.” Ephram gave a dubious rumble and Harlan held up his hands to deflect. “I swear that’s all it is. And I’m gonna need to stay here for a few days while I finish up the paperwork.”  
  
“There’s other places you can stay, you got money enough.”  
  
Harlan looked hurt by Ephram’s blunt rejection and appealed to Freddie. “Help me out here, son,” he entreated the fairy. “I ain’t been the best of fathers, that’s the fuckin’ truth, but you know he’ll regret tossing me out instead of extending me hospitality. Just give me a chance, that’s all I’m asking.” He turned his dazzling smile on Freddie again, saying, “No hard feelings about thinking you was kitchen staff, hey? I should have realized you’re more decorative than functional.”  
  
Freddie listened as Harlan went on, his explanation for his presence in Soapberry Springs - and their house specifically - sounding neither overtly suspicious, nor completely above-board, and Freddie was fairly certain that he’d made little to no headway with Ephram, given his witch’s initial lack of response-  
  
But when his husband flatly informed his father that there were numerous other places he could stay, Harlan once again turned his slightly greasy charm to Freddie - trying manfully to press him into service on his behalf -and it became the fairy’s turn to temporarily suggest both the rock and the hard place.  
  
“That’s not my decision to make, Mr. Pettaline,” he said politely, “If Ephram’s said no, than the answer is no. But if he changes his mind, I’m sure you’ll be the first person he contacts, yeah?”  
  
Freddie smiled, adding, “And for the record, I’m both decorative and functional,” before looking up at his husband. “Now,” he asked, “-will your father be staying for breakfast, darling? Because if he is, he’s welcome to mine, and if he isn’t, I’m afraid yours is getting a little bit cold…”  
  
Ephram went still, his gaze shifting down to meet Freddie’s. This, right here, was one of the many things that made him love his darling so deeply; Freddie could stand firmly at his side, unafraid to show the affection and support that Ephram badly needed when he was emotionally rattled. And in addition to that, having Freddie’s staunch calmness there, Ephram felt an avenue opening that he’d thought would be shut forever. “He might could stay for breakfast,” he said cautiously, “iff’n there’s enough to go round.”  
  
He squeezed Freddie’s hand, the faint uncertainty in his voice making it clear between them that he wanted Freddie’s guidance on this – or at least his input. Harlan, for his part, kept an ear on what was going on while simultaneously looking as though his mind was a million miles away, but when he heard that note in his son’s voice, he lowered his chin so his Stetson obscured his face.  
  
When he raised his head again, Harlan’s expression was sombre and thoughtful, a look that lent the more scoundrelly aspects of his face a stark and rugged nobility. “Ephram, son,” he said, his voice at the low gravelly honey that Ephram’s got to when he was tired or distraught, “I know I ain’t done right by you for most of your life, you and your momma. But I’ve changed, can’t you see that? All I’m asking is for one bitty ol’ chance to prove it, to you and to your loved ones.” Harlan met Freddie’s eyes again, holding for a moment before looking back at Ephram. “Just a few nights. It’s all I’m asking.”  
  
Ephram leaned down, pressing his nose behind Freddie’s ear. “Well,” he said drily, “that’ll teach me for deciding I wasn’t gonna hold on to old hurts no more.” He kissed Freddie’s cheekbone, smiling softly at him, before saying to his father, “Fine, Daddy. You can stay so long as you don’t cause no trouble.”  
  
Harlan was good, Freddie would give him that much. He hit all the right notes for sincerity, and there was a chance that he might actually be acting in good faith, with his seemingly heartfelt desire to be a better father to Ephram. But then there was a chance that aliens might land in the back garden at any moment, too - and Freddie considered it only safe at this point to put the two possibilities at roughly even odds.  
  
If Harlan was on the up and up, then the fairy would be thrilled; Ephram deserved to have a caring and devoted father - even one who turned up a day late and a dollar short. But if he wasn’t, then Freddie wanted to be able to insulate his witch from as much disappointment as he could.  
  
Even if that wasn’t much at all.  
  
The invitation in Ephram’s voice for Freddie’s opinions and impressions hadn’t gone unnoticed, after all. Not by him - and, he’d bet his life, not by Harlan. And if he were the older man, playing some sort of angle, then that invitation would be the tiny crack in Ephram’s armour he’d attempt to exploit first. One way or another.  
  
So Harlan would need to be watched - and taken with a very large grain of salt… Just in case.  
  
Ephram leaned down to murmur into Freddie’s ear that the universe had wasted no time in testing his resolve, and the fairy abandoned his suspicions for the moment to turn his face into the gentle kiss pressed to his cheekbone, offering back a smile of his own. “It’s not easy being the bigger man, sweetheart,” he said, soft enough so that only Ephram would be able to hear him, “-which is why I try never to do it.”  
  
He touched Ephram’s face, lightly carding through the golden blond of his beard. “But that’s just the sort of man you are.”  
  
Freddie stretched up and brushed their lips together, dragging his fingers down his husband’s back, then stepped away to fetch the plate of food he’d fixed for himself, setting it down at the kitchen island beside the one he’d given Ephram earlier. “Have a seat then, Mr. Pettaline,” he said, gesturing at the stool. “It won’t be any good if it’s cold.”  
  
Pouring a cup of coffee for his father-in-law, the fairy freshened Ephram’s, and put the kettle on for himself. “So you said paperwork before, yeah?” he inquired as Harlan sat down, “What sort of business are you currently in?”  
  
Freddie smiled. “I mean, you’re an awfully long way from Kentucky…”  
  
Ephram was left licking the taste of Freddie from his lips, his husband’s words of praise wrapping around him like a security blanket. As raised and prickly as he got whenever his father was around, Freddie managed to soothe Ephram’s rawness by telling him the sorts of things that he’d never even known he wanted so badly to hear. Being the bigger man? That made Ephram sound downright commendable, rather than just the down-home plain-spoken Sheriff he considered himself to be.  
  
He nursed that quietly as Harlan wasted no time at all in straddling a stool as if it were a saddle, reaching for one of the prepared plates – Freddie’s, since it was untouched – and spinning it in front of him. “You boys seem to have a nice little homestead fixed up here, don’t you?” Harlan remarked, gesturing around with a pita. “Real Better Home and Gardens-like. I might even stretch it to say Architectural Digest-like.” He stirred the eggs into the tomato briskly, making a slurry of it, and upon tasting a bite proclaimed, “Hot damn, son! You landed yourself a pretty lil fairy boy who can cook like this? You’d best clip his wings and hang on to him.”

Rumbling in warning, Ephram started slowly eating from his plate, allowing for Freddie to share with him. “I don’t need to do no trickery to keep ‘im with me,” Ephram said shortly. “I know it’s a fuckin’ foreign concept to you, Daddy, but we love each other enough for Freddie to know he’s mine.”  
  
It was interesting to Freddie to be spoken of, without being spoken to - not something he was unfamiliar with, just something that hadn’t happened in quite a while outside of his playing ‘Tink’ to Iann's 'Peter' when the two of them were working a con. But, praise was praise, after all - even if he was certain that flattering him was very much a ploy on Harlan’s part to ingratiate himself better with his son - so the fairy just gave his father-in-law a smile and carried on making his tea, wondering if there was some sort of Southern etiquette in play that he wasn’t aware of. Unsure if he supposed to respond, or if was he just expected to blush demurely and persist in looking pretty.  
  
He’d have to ask Ephram later, he decided. Not because he necessarily intended to play along - unless he was specifically instructed to - but because he was curious. Which, in Freddie’s opinion, was reason enough to inquire. Ephram though, put a stop to his father’s fountain of compliments - and instructions for how to keep Freddie - just a moment later; and when he did, the fairy had to actively fight the urge to climb up into his husband’s lap, wanting to demonstrate his love for him right there in the kitchen.  
  
“Absolutely, darling,” he murmured with a smile, bringing his tea over to stand beside his witch; urging Ephram with a small wave of his hand to go ahead and eat because he himself was no longer hungry, and then smoothing that same hand over Ephram’s shoulder-blade. “I never have any doubt.”  
  
Freddie watched as Harlan seemed to consider that fact, the older man pausing as he ate to eye his son, before finally deciding to answer the question that had been put to him.

“Currently,” the older man said, his intonation exaggerating Freddie’s, “I’m exploring the import/export business. I like to travel and meet new folks, and, well…” Harlan gave Freddie a dazzlingly white smile, hinting at all sorts of sparkling, sly mischief to be had. “Folks tend to like meetin’ me.”  
  
“When you’s an awfully long way from Kentucky,” Ephram said dryly. Harlan ignored him.  
  
“It’s the sort of industry you’d likely be a dab hand at, Freddie,” he said, then laughed merrily. “Hey, wouldn’t that be somethin’? I hang around here long enough, maybe get myself established, and you can come work with your father-in-law. Start up a family business and then I’d get invited to meals like this. Goddamn gourmet food, son-in-law.”  
  
Freddie listened as Harlan elaborated, which he did vaguely. And with a very concentrated appeal to both Freddie’s vanity and his inclination toward misbehaviour.  
  
Clearly, the fairy thought with a smirk, Harlan had sniffed him out too.  
  
So, side-stepping his father-in-law’s assessment of his own appeal, and Ephram’s under-cutting of that same belief, Freddie chose to focus instead on what seemed to be the small grenade Harlan had lobbed in the middle of his statement. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said, smiling even as his wheels were turning, wondering what exactly Harlan was playing at. “Cooking’s a bit of a hobby of mine; makes me miss travelling a little less. Are you really thinking of moving to Soapberry Springs though?”  
  
Freddie glanced over at his husband, trying to get a read on his Ephram’s reaction to all this before looking back at his father-in-law and chuckling, “Or have I just got the wrong end of the stick?”  
  
Neither of the Pettaline men expected Freddie to contribute anything while they were discussing the fairy in his presence, although whether that was a Southern thing or a Southern man thing could be argued. But one thing was quite sure even though it went unsaid; the possessive swell of desire that Ephram felt when Freddie came over, because he recognized the same look in his husband’s eyes. He growled a little when Freddie stroked his back and Harlan, none of the sudden charge in the air passing him by, muttered in a stifled breath, “Don’t let lil ol’ me cramp your style, boys….”  
  
Annoyed by the insouciant way his father said it, Ephram snapped, “Listen, you ain’t the ‘cool dad’, okay? You wasn’t around to hand me some condoms and gimme the show-the-girl-a-good-time speech when I needed it, so don’t act like you’re so awesome now when it comes to me getting laid. I’ll fuck my husband when I goddamn want to and I don’t give a tinker’s cuss bout your comfort levels.”  
  
“Son,” Harlan said, a little frustration finally showing through in how he tossed down his pita and sat slouching back on his stool, “I ain’t here to play conductor to your orchestra, awright? Get that through that stubborn mule head of yours.” He looked up, including Freddie in his conversation as he said, “Given how my firstborn suspects me of perpetually havin’ one hand under the table, moving to Soapberry don’t seem like the most feasible of ideas, does it now, Freddie-boy?”  
  
Rising smoothly from his seat, Harlan gave the hip of his jeans an unneeded hitch, sniffing sharply and nodding his chin at the dishes. “Howbout you boys let me do the cleaning up, and you take some alone time to talk it over? I don’t mind the chores, it’ll give me a chance to lick the plates clean.” Harlan shot a grin and wink at Freddie again, easily collecting the plates in the way he uncannily seemed like every motion was a marvel of physics and human geometry.  
  
Ephram stood as well, looking more unsure than ever and clasping Freddie’s hand.  
  
Ephram’s growl of desire, and the subsequent snarl at his father had stoked a flare of heat low in Freddie’s belly that made him have to bite back the urge to suggest that his husband was more than welcome take him into the closest room with a door and fuck him now if he had a mind to; knowing, unfortunately, that there were currently more pressing matters at hand.  
  
“Well,” the fairy said smoothly instead, from his place at his witch’s side when his father-in-law finally addressed him, “-Ephram’s usually got very good instincts when it comes to that sort of thing. That’s part of what makes him such a wonderful Sheriff.”  
  
“But thank-you,” Freddie went on, not sure quite what to make of Harlan’s wink when it came, but smiling politely back at him anyway after the older man had suggested Freddie and Ephram take some time to talk in private while he did the washing up, “-I think that sounds like a rather good idea. The dishwasher’s just at your hip, Mr. Pettaline; and please, help yourself to more coffee, yeah? We’ll be back shortly.” Then he threaded his fingers through Ephram’s, and tugged his husband gently until he could lead him from the room, bringing him down the hall to one of the guest bedrooms, and shutting the door behind them.  
  
“Iffen he’s got good instincts, he got em all from me,” Harlan responded in his wry yet coaxing voice as he turned to the sink to scrape the dishes into the garbage disposal. “You boys run along. I know my turnin’ up here upset the apple cart and you gotta go check how many of em got bruised.”  
  
Harlan started whistling, the tune following them down the hall and only being quieted when Freddie shut the guest room door. Ephram was glad that his husband took the opportunity to guide him away, because his frustration and annoyance with his father was starting to subside and that meant capitulation and vain hope were on the horizon.

“Just say the word,” Freddie told Ephram matter-of-factly, once they were alone, his voice calm and sure and even as he looked up into his witch’s eyes and touched his cheek lightly, “-and I’ll put him out on his ear, sweetheart. Because this is your house, yeah? And I won’t have you uncomfortable in it. For anyone. So if you want him gone, then he’s gone.”  
  
“You don’t owe him anything, love. Our hospitality’s to be bestowed as you see fit, and you don’t have to tolerate anything under your own roof that you don’t care to.”  
  
“After all,” the fairy went on, “-he’s not exactly helpless, is he?”  
  
“I mean, honestly, Ephram, I get the impression that that man could find an angle in a bloody bubble. And coming from me, that’s saying something…”  
  
Ephram smiled at Freddie’s vivid metaphor and tugged his fairy down on the bed, so they could lie on their backs and hold hands like teenage sweethearts. It felt appropriate enough, since it was his father that Ephram was upset over. “No,” Ephram allowed, breathing in the clean, sophisticated scent of Freddie to centre himself. “No, that’un would never get caught out in the cold and that’s a fact. My Daddy survived that mine accident what killed twenty-eight other men, he ken survive navigating round Soapberry Springs.” He frowned a little, asking, “Did you notice a limp on ‘im? In the left leg? He got it in the cave-in but I don’t recall seeing it just now.”  
  
Quite happy to spend eternity laying beside Ephram and holding his hand if that would make his witch happy, Freddie shifted slightly closer as he considered Harlan Pettaline’s survival skills - some form of which had obviously been passed on to his son - his brow furrowing slightly as he answered Ephram’s question. “Do you know…” the fairy said, “-I don’t think I did, now that you mention it. He strode into the kitchen rather smoothly when he arrived…”  
  
“I take it that it’s usually much more pronounced? His limp?” Curious now, despite their having talked about Harlan and the mine collapse to some extent before - the past always seemed easier to manage when they were wrapped up in one another’s arms - Freddie turned his head to look over at his husband. “When was that again, darling? How old were you?”

“Yeah,” Ephram nodded. “He had a hitch in his left leg there was fair obvious when he walked, although my Daddy being who he is, he made it look good.” He snuffled wryly. “Knew when to play it up or tone it down, too, depending on whose goodwill he was looking to get. And even if folks saw through it, that still din’t mean they wouldn’t fall for it.” At Freddie’s question, Ephram put his other hand on his stomach, drumming his fingers in thought. “Reckon it was when I was round sixteen? I was fixing to drop out of school and head to work in the mine my own self, and then the cave-in happened and Momma wouldn’t let me. Meanwhile Bonford Coal paid out my Daddy along with the bereaved families. He woulda done run through all that money already but he was with Loretta and she grabbed up a chunk of it and had her brother bank it down in Lexington.”

Freddie had no doubt that Harlan had managed to limp his way into the hearts, beds, and bank accounts of quite a few people in his time - the story of his miraculous survival providing a wonderful springboard for any number of scams and cons. Freddie would have done the same in his position.  
  
What he wondered though, was what else Harlan had brought away from that mine when he’d been dragged out - the only man still breathing. Because that wasn’t the sort of experience that left you as it found you…  
  
It was the sort of experience that whispered in your ear at night, and blamed you for everything it could think of.  
  
And Freddie was very grateful to Lulie that she’d put her foot down when she did, sparing Ephram the chance for those sort of whispers himself; as he already possessed more than his share of malevolent voices. “Your mum,” the fairy said firmly, “-did absolutely the right thing, love. You weren’t meant to spend your life in the dark.”

Ephram sighed, thumping their joined hands against the mattress. “Christ, he spins me right round without hardly trying,” he said, puzzlement in his voice. “Daddy always takes such a strange path to everything, like he’s gotta stay hidden to reach the prize. Whatever that is. I never understand what’s going through that man’s mind.”  
  
If he’d seen himself at that moment, the clarity and simpleness of his expression, Ephram might have understood that with his own honest, straightforward ways, there wasn’t much avenue to understand his father’s chicanery. But instead he turned towards Freddie, teeth gleaming in a grin. “Your offering to throw ‘im out on his kiester sure as hellfire was sexy, though,” Ephram purred, nosing against Freddie’s face and kissing him here and there. “Time still could come when I’d want you to do that and then fuck me over the kitchen island.”

Watching as Ephram did his best to make sense of the enigmatic man in the other room to no avail, Freddie gave his witch a gentle smile. “That’s because you haven’t a deceptive bone in your body, my darling,” he told him softly. “You’re as straightforward as they come. But your father… I mean… he’s a gambler, isn’t he? Literally, symbolically… he’s a chancer. And when you live your life that way, you never really get up from the table. Everything’s a bluff. Everything’s in service to the win - however you need to play things to get it. People are just cards in his hand…”  
  
“But that’s not you, sweetheart. And I love that about you more than I can say.”  
  
The fairy returned his husband’s grin though when Ephram rolled over to face him, the deep throaty purr of his witch’s voice and the warm press of his lips making Freddie’s cock twitch inside his trousers. He took Ephram’s hand and moved it between his legs, craning up to capture his lover’s mouth with a cheekily seductive sort of gleam in his eyes. “Well, now I’ll just be looking for excuses, won’t I?” he murmured. “Are you really sure a preemptive strike isn’t necessary, love? I could be inside you before he’s even managed to pick himself up off the lawn…”  
  
Freddie’s explanation of Harlan was the most sense Ephram had ever been able to make of the man, and he squirmed in pleasure at his husband’s words of praise and love. “So what you’re telling me is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “is I married a con-man because my Daddy’s one? Does that count as Freudian?”  
  
A moment later Ephram thought it probably did, when Freddie guided his hand down to feel the erection mounting between his legs. “jesus,” Ephram breathed in a near moan, only for it to turn into a full-blown one when Freddie offered a better solution than suffering through having Harlan hang around.”  
  
“Okay,” Ephram said, fast, before he had time to doubt himself. “Okay. I’ll tell ‘im he can come over and spend time while he’s in town but he’s gotta find himself another roost to sleep.” He kissed Freddie hastily, a few times, licking needily into his lover’s mouth and clutching at his thickening groin before vaulting up and bringing Freddie with him.  
  
When Ephram laughed, flush with Freddie’s compliments, and asked about the Freudian connotation of their marriage given the shared vocation of both his husband and his father, Freddie laughed, pulling a face. “Well, I certainly hope there’s more to it than that,” he said, “…but I’m not above making the most of an advantage…” He rocked up into Ephram’s hand, his prick swelling and pressing more insistently against his zip; smiling at the way his witch moaned for him, and nodding his head, letting out a small hum of encouragement-  
  
But he had to admit that he was more than a little surprised when Ephram actually agreed to put Harlan out; kissing Freddie as though he was shoring up his nerve - the sweet taste of hungry needful desire thick on his tongue as he groped at Freddie’s cock - and then tugging the fairy up out of bed and back to the kitchen.

  
In the kitchen, Harlan had dutifully prettied the place up, leaving no sign of their breakfast, and was drinking coffee that had enough bourbon in it for the two other men to scent it in the air. He looked from one to the other and a corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk before Ephram said, too loudly, “Daddy, I’m glad to see you but all things considered you best go on and find yourself somewheres other’n here to bed down and you can come over while you're in town but ain’t no way you gonna sleep here in my house okay?”  
  
Harlan paused, coffee cup halfway to his lips. When Ephram was done, pink-faced and looking like he was about to burst, Harlan finished the movement and the coffee, putting the mug in the sink. “Well,” he said, picking up his hat, “you cain’t blame a feller for tryin’. I’ll be in touch, son – sons.”

Freddie stayed close as Ephram said his piece, one hand splayed on the small of his husband’s back, watching with pride, and a small smile - though Freddie expected Harlan had already sussed out exactly what had motivated his son to reach the tipping point - as Ephram stood his ground and chucked his father, very politely, out of their house.  
  
And Harlan, for his part, accepted Ephram’s decision with good grace, telling them he’d be in touch, before taking his leave.  
  
“We’ll see you again soon, Mr. Pettaline,” Freddie said as his father-in-law passed, “Lovely to meet you.”

Harlan put his hat back on and headed out the door in a rolling gait that made it hard to discern whether it was hiding a limp or not, but at that moment Ephram didn’t care. He turned to Freddie, eyes alight and a grin splitting his face. “That felt awesome,” Ephram said, excitement bubbling in his voice, and bumped the side of Freddie’s face with his forehead with a hungry little yowl.

When Ephram’s face lit with a beatific sort of excitement and pleasure, Freddie wasted no time in gathering his husband closer and kissing him breathless; grinning himself when he broke away again, his hands already pulling Ephram’s t-shirt up and off.  
  
Tossing it away, he reached for his witch’s belt buckle. “You were bloody brilliant,” he said, unfastening Ephram’s jeans and taking them down along with his underwear, leaving his husband naked and gorgeous in the warmth of the mid-morning sun that was streaming in the windows. “I know that wasn’t easy, love…” And then, drawing Ephram down for another kiss, Freddie wrapped his fingers around his lover’s length, coaxing him to full hardness before delivering a smack to his arse.  
  
“Now hop up on the island,” the still-fully-clothed fairy instructed with a smirk, his eyes full of heat, “It turns out I’m hungry after all.”  
  
Ephram could practically feel Freddie’s pride radiating through his palm to spread out along the witch’s back, bolstering him to say what he needed to his father. Christ, that feeling – Ephram thought that sometimes he’d do _anything_ to feel the benediction of Freddie’s being proud of him and the reverberations it made through Ephram’s own psyche, suggesting that all that Ephram had accomplished despite staggering odds was deserving of praise instead of being banal and unimportant.  
  
So when the door shut on Harlan’s back and Freddie pulled him close to kiss, plundering Ephram’s breath in a way that made his blood fizz with desire, Ephram was more than ready for it. He sucked desperately at Freddie’s lush bottom lip, practically whimpering at the loss as the fairy pulled back but didn’t move away, instead divesting Ephram of his tshirt with an air of ownership.  
  
And as if that wasn’t sexy enough, Freddie kept up with his words of praise as he undressed Ephram down to his bare skin, making him shiver even as sunshine poured over his body. “You help me do things that ain’t easy,” Ephram said urgently, looping his arms around Freddie’s neck as he was pulled down and kissed again. “You make me feel like I can handle anything.” He rocked his narrow hips into Freddie’s grasp as they kept kissing, his skin warming faster as his cock filled his fairy’s knowledgeable, practiced hand.  
  
The slap delivered to his backside had Ephram’s cock jerking, the head smacking his belly as he groaned in arousal and followed Freddie’s direction to hop up on the island counter. “Freddie,” Ephram implored, long fingers pressing against his husband’s arms, grasping the rounded, heavy muscle there. “Baby, please, I need you, I can’t think of nothing else except your cock buried inside me.” He kneaded Freddie’s arms, trying to coax him closer, rubbing one calf against his fairy’s flank. “Take care of me, honey. Please.”  
  
There was no higher praise as far as Freddie was concerned. To have that sort of effect, that sort of influence, on this man, his man, his witch who he loved so much… There was nothing else like it. No other compliment, no other sort of approbation, that could make him feel more beautiful. More powerful.  
  
More necessary.  
  
And Freddie wanted to bathe Ephram in the same.  
  
The fairy drank in the sight of him - his husband looked angelic like this, bared and wanting in the sunlight; all that warm rosy-golden flesh to be used and tasted and adored - and he smiled as Ephram did as he’d been told. Though apparently, it was under protest.  
  
So Freddie moved closer, making a place for himself between Ephram’s thighs, the musky scent of his witch’s arousal already thick and heady, and licked his lips as his husband’s big hands massaged his biceps, Ephram’s entreaties sweet in his ears.  
  
“Do you have any idea,” he said softly, raising his hands to the buttons on his own shirt and unfastening them, stripping it off and discarding it as he spread his wings, “-how much I love to hear you beg for my cock?” He smoothed his hands slowly up Ephram’s legs, and then caught him under the knees, pulling him closer. “Lay back for me, yeah?”  
  
Ephram’s thighs pushed up and spread shamelessly, Freddie ducked his head to mouth at his witch’s scrotum, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin, his breath hot and insistent. “Because I do intend to take care of you, sweetheart…”  
  
The fairy licked a thick wet stripe up his witch’s cock, before moving lower again and directing his attention to somewhere deeper and softer. “…but I’ll do it in my own good time.”  
  
There was a wicked gleam in Freddie’s eyes when he looked up through his lashes, his tongue darting out to lap at his husband’s hole, to make a meal of him; and he let out an appreciative moan at the taste, licking and kissing, pushing past that tight ring of muscle with a smirk. Knowing how Ephram wanted so much more than just his mouth could provide; knowing that he wanted to be stretched, and filled, and owned.  
  
Freddie’s own cock aching in its confines, his pants a wet mess of hunger for more, he buried his face like a starving man, getting Ephram sloppy-wet, before finally pulling back again. Nuzzling at his witch’s cock one more time before hauling him up and lifting him down off the island.  
  
Craning up once Ephram’s feet were under him, Freddie kissed him deeply, forcefully, and then turned him around, taking Ephram’s hands and bracing them against the counter, bending him low the way he needed him. “Beg me again,” the fairy breathed as he quickly unfastened his own belt and trousers, shoving everything down until it caught around his thighs. “Tell me how badly you need to be fucked, Ephram. How badly you want me inside you…”  
  
His own rigid prick sticky and dripping as it bobbed in front of him, Freddie pressed close, nestling himself in the cleft of Ephram’s ass; teasing them both as he rubbed himself against him, his hands tight on Ephram’s hips. “And you keep talking while I’m fucking you,” he murmured, finally taking himself in hand and pressing the slick blunt head of his cock against his husband’s needy hole, his voice soft but firm. “I want to hear everything that comes into your head, darling…”  
  
And then he took Ephram hard, burying himself deep and rolling his hips into a steady driving rhythm, the slap of their skin obscene in the cheerful kitchen.  
  
Freddie’s movements all seemed designed to keep Ephram on the crest of desperation and desire, from the way he licked those cupcake lips to the strong, sure moves as he stripped off his shirt to release those jewel-blue wings. They stood straight out in a way that made Freddie’s heavy shoulders look even more broad, affirmed his being a fairy in a way that couldn’t be forgotten or ignored. The sunshine refracted through them to cast gleaming spots of azure and cerulean and robin’s egg along the walls and ceiling and Ephram caught his breath at it. Freddie making a cathedral for them, for what they were about to do.  
  
It made Ephram think of the first time that Freddie had fucked him, spread out on the altar of some aghast Roman god smelling of olive oil and leather and incense. Or the time before that, diaphanous and above reality, in the treehouse when Ephram had been fresh and new and Freddie, already knowledgeable in the ways of loving another boy, had given Ephram that as his first time instead of in prison.  
  
Ephram was, at heart, inclined towards preaching (as both of his long-suffering partners well knew), but when he was on Freddie’s altar he was the one begging for absolution through holy flesh. “I’ll beg for your cock all you want,” Ephram said as his husband rearranged him, his beautiful strong fairy lover urging him to lean back. “I want it that bad, Freddie, honey, I need to feel you inside me, I want you to remind me how perfect it feels and how deep you can go and–”  
  
He stopped there, gasping as Freddie spread him open and breathed promises that Ephram so longed for, his tongue and lips chasing them along Ephram’s balls before he sealed that promise with that long lick along Ephram’s straining cock. “Freddie…” Ephram groaned, and the sound only became louder and more urgent when Freddie licked his way into Ephram’s eager, clenching hole. “Please, please, baby, I’ll do anything, you can ask for whatever you want, just please give it to me.” His voice pulled out strained as Ephram threw his head back, thready yowls of pleasure and frustration coming from his throat as Freddie made it his job to eat Ephram out as hungrily as possible.  
  
His cock bobbed hard when Ephram raised his head to watch once more, his husband’s dark hair brushing softly against his thigh, unruffled, as though the way the fairy was devouring Ephram wasn’t happening at all. And then Freddie was moving in the fast, uncompromising way that he was capable of when he really wanted something and Ephram found himself upright and being kissed so hard his knees almost gave out.  
  
Gripping the edge of the counter where Freddie had put him, the fairy’s physical positioning of his hands making Ephram’s blood fill with silken-hot yearning to fully give himself over to his darling, he moaned at the sound of Freddie’s trousers being undone and his demand that the witch beg for it. There was nothing Ephram was more willing to do at this point, needing this from Freddie, needing to be directed and daddied even though he didn’t want to think about that consciously in the slightest.  
  
“Honey, don’t make me wait no more,” he pleaded, fingers curling and uncurling against the granite. “It’s an ache in me now, I’m hurting for wanting you so bad, feeling you as deep inside me as you can get, Freddie, you’re the only one can do this for me.” Ephram turned his head, only barely able to see Freddie’s face over his own shoulder, and said again in a voice so full of visceral want that it was pulpy and melting, “Sweetheart, you’re the only one.”  
  
And then Freddie ended the wait in one thrust, all the way in, a gesture so calibrated to claim Ephram as his own that for a moment Ephram couldn’t even breathe. When Freddie started moving inside him it kicked Ephram’s breath back into gear and he moaned eagerly, pushing back against his fairy’s thrusts. “Oh God,” Ephram said, his words loose and expansive with the pure slutty satisfaction of being filled so thoroughly, “it’s so good, I need you so goddamn much Freddie, like this so’s I know I’m yours and I’ll belong to you always.” He clenched down around Freddie’s thick, perfect cock, making them both moan, and gasped quietly, “I love when you fuck me like this, when I want it so bad it’s like I fuckin’ go into heat for you.”  
  
When Ephram had told him that he could ask for anything he wanted - that he would do anything, give Freddie anything, if only Freddie would provide him with what he needed so badly - for a moment, the fairy had been tempted to ask him to protect himself. To please, please, love himself the way that Freddie loved him, and forget all this forgiveness rubbish.  
  
He’d wanted to. As a fairy he was biologically compelled to want to press an advantage, to pull strings until he got his way-  
  
But ultimately, he’d said nothing at all - because there were lines he wouldn’t cross with his husband. He refused. Ephram had already made up his mind, and there would be no changing it. His witch believed that this was necessary, and Freddie had promised to abide by that decision.  
  
And despite his worry, the fairy wouldn’t spoil this sweetness - this perfect moment of beauty between them - by asking for something that couldn’t be given.  
  
Instead, he’d pressed his mouth to Ephram’s shoulder, savouring the salty tang of his witch’s sweat, when Ephram told him - with a delicious sort of needy whine - that he was hurting now, and that Freddie alone could make it stop. That Freddie was the only one who could give him what he wanted; the only one who could do for him the things he needed done…  
  
And just like always, the fairy had felt capable of moving mountains in the exact same moment that his knees went weak. Because he would never get over the way it felt to be Ephram’s only one. He would never stop being hungry for it.  
  
So clutching tightly at his husband’s bony hips - not intending to bruise but no longer conscious enough of the strength in his hands to hold back - Freddie fucked into Ephram in long hard drives; nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing back in again until he was buried deep, their bodies pressed flush. His lips wet and parted as he groaned out his pleasure, he rested his forehead against Ephram’s back as his husband’s body gripped him like a vise; his sweetheart greedily rocking back into his thrusts and telling him how good it was. How much he loved that Freddie could reduce him to nothing more than an animal in heat - desperate to be fucked, to have his needs sated.  
  
“I know, love,” Freddie gritted out as he kept moving, adjusting his depth and his angle in order to strike Ephram’s prostate, and finally reaching around to grip his lover’s cock. “So do I.”  
  
Rubbing his thumb across the slickness of the head, Freddie teased at the slit before letting go and once again taking hold of Ephram’s hips; his thrusts never losing their rhythm. “You’re perfect,” the fairy breathed, “And you’re mine- you’re mine forever. No one else, no other man, has ever - could ever - feel the way that you do, Ephram. You’re the only thing that I always want…”  
  
Dragging his lips across Ephram’s shoulders, Freddie kissed at him, licking up beads of sweat - both of them wet with it now between the exertion and the warmth of the sun - feeling his orgasm building low in his belly as the hot silk of Ephram’s clenching hold made him moan. And, letting his teeth scrape, Ephram’s skin turning red under his attentions, Freddie bit down to mark him, reaching for his husband’s cock a second time.  
  
He could feel the throb of Ephram’s pulse through the hot turgid flesh, and he began to stroke him in time with each roll of his hips, panting, “Come for me. Come for me, sweetheart… let me feel it…” just as his own release refused to be held back any further.  
  
His face pressed between Ephram’s shoulder-blades, Freddie came with a ragged roaring shudder, emptying himself into the one he loved, his heart feeling like it just might burst through his chest.  
  
Freddie’s hands holding him firmly like that made frills of pleasure run up along Ephram’s chest, down his arms; neither of them was exactly delicate despite Freddie’s lush beauty and Ephram’s boyish fairness and it was times like this where that became very, very important. “Don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t stop, Freddie,” Ephram groaned, although the grasping need in his earlier begging didn’t make its way into these words. He knew Freddie wouldn’t let him go, not ever, not so long as his precious fairy could help it. Freddie would never stop this, and Ephram was entirely, wholeheartedly grateful for that fact.  
  
A moment later and Ephram’s thoughts exploded into fragments as Freddie’s cock hit that place in him that had the witch gasping and panting, crying out when Freddie also grabbed his cock. “oh jesus,” Ephram said breathlessly, writhing against Freddie’s sweaty, slick body, “oh jesus ohjesusoh oh honey–” His cock jumped hard in Freddie’s grip, a pearl of wetness chasing Freddie’s thumb as it left the slit and his hand returned to Ephram’s hip. “Oh, you fuckin’ tease,” Ephram grunted, tensing his shoulders as Freddie began to put him through his paces again.  
  
And when Freddie started talking to him, in that oak barrel whiskey voice of his that he got when he was exerting himself, Ephram let his eyes drift closed, blissful. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice jumping with each thrust that Freddie gave him. “That’s right, honey, I’m yours, whenever you want me, forever and ever. Ain’t nothin’ gonna put us asunder, you hear me? Freddie, darlin’, God you fuck me like I never had it before, like we was made to fit together.”  
  
Which they were, of course. Ephram had long since been of this opinion and every day that Freddie and him were together only served to solidify it. Like the way that Freddie’s tongue was lapping at Ephram’s skin, then his teeth biting down to seal it again. This pact between them that they continually renewed.  
  
It didn’t take long after that. Between the biting, Freddie commanding him to come, and then filling Ephram with his own spend, Ephram went toppling helplessly over the cliff himself with a yowl, reaching behind him to grab Freddie’s hip and hold him close.

Hold him inside, for as long as he could. For forever.


End file.
